


Uniform Repair Unit (URU) Loves Tony Stark

by Faustess



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baked Goods, Cameos, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clothing, Coffee, Deaf Clint Barton, Gen, Home, Homemade Meals, NO CAPES, No Romance, POV Clint Barton, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Secret Siblings, Team as Family, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Uniforms, drawing straws, so much coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustess/pseuds/Faustess
Summary: Where do the Avengers' swanky outfits and uniforms come from?  Tony Stark helps with gadgets, weapons, armor, and top-of-the-line polymers, but assembling the pieces?  Sitting at the sewing machine?Cleaningall that that gear after a mission?  That's the work of a small, dedicated team assembled by Phil Coulson and Nick Fury themselves.  The URU or Uniform Repair Unit.These people reward those who make their lives easier and Tony Stark is their favorite Avenger.Tony Stark Bingo 2019 - R3 - Secret Siblings





	Uniform Repair Unit (URU) Loves Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rebelmeg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelmeg/gifts), [Trashcanakin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashcanakin/gifts), [Cinnamon_Anemone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamon_Anemone/gifts), [AndroidTwin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndroidTwin/gifts), [Nix3994](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nix3994/gifts), [feignedsobriquet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feignedsobriquet/gifts), [justanotherpipedream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherpipedream/gifts), [rudearrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudearrow/gifts).



“No fair – Stark got another fruit basket!” Clint complained. “Who did you have to blow to get that? Those strawberries are…” Clint ran out of words and resorted to a look of pure longing.

“Homegrown too,” Tony smirked.

Folding his arms over his chest, Clint whined, “C’mon Nat… make him tell us where the fruit comes from….”

Natasha glanced at Clint, “You really don’t know? From the same place the orange custard pie with cranberries came from last fall.”

“That one came to both of you and you didn’t share any,” bitterness crept into Clint’s voice and he decided to pour himself another cup of coffee before his mood was totally ruined. Coffee splattered down the edge of the coffee pot and onto Clint’s pants. “Aw, coffee… no.”

“You wouldn’t have shared either – it was divine,” Natasha almost moaned the words, closing her eyes in remembered gastronomic bliss.

Tony nodded, “Creamy, not too sweet – slightly bruleed…”

“With the sharp tang of cranberry,” Natasha sighed happily. She shook her head slightly and glanced at the fruit basket with its pints of deep red, small, but lusciously sweet strawberries with a wistful expression on her face. She fluttered her eyelashes at Tony, “You know it’s really not fair since you cover up your clothes with your armor when we go out.”

“Not my circus, not my monkeys N-Ro. Talk to Coulson if you want to complain. He and Fury handpicked them,” Tony replied loftily as he sliced the fruit into a bowl.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Standing in the tatters of what had been the first field test of a new polymer for Clint’s lightweight armored pants, Clint pleaded, “C’mon Phil… I know this looks bad. I just want to try and set the record straight.”

Phil Coulson appeared unmoved, “It’s not up to me. They said they don’t want to see you,” Phil raked his eyes up and down critically. “And showing up like that isn’t going to end well for you. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.”

He tried arguing, whining – even said please – before swearing (again) and marching off. Clint dropped his ruined uniform down the chute in the hallway, cleaned up, and scrounged up some clothes that smelled all right and made his way to the coffee stand in the lobby.

While he waited, hoping he hadn’t used all the money in his account yet, he saw Tony Stark chatting with a couple of women who were both on the plus side of ‘plump,’ but both cute, nonetheless. Their cupid’s bow mouths were emphasized one with cherry red and the other with an orangey-red shade that Clint happened to know was called ‘Dangerous.’ Clearly, he’d spent too much time with Nat. One had blonde curls that fluffed out at wildly unpredictable angles (cherry red) and the other had very long, straight, red hair ( _Dangerous… strangely appropriate, _Clint thought to himself).__

____

____

Tony gushed, “I’m tellin’ you Jessie – I didn’t even see the scones right away! I was so busy blissing out over those strawberries!”

“They’re good, right?” the Dangerous red-headed woman enthused. “Debbie and I are thinking about making some jam this weekend. Want a jar if we do?”

“Just finished the last of that plum chai stuff you sent for Christmas,” Tony beamed, “How are you guys so wonderful?”

“Hell if I know,” grumbled the blonde with the poofy hair, who seemed to be Debbie.

Tony looked concerned, “Everything okay?”

The blonde said, “Let’s just say I’ve seen the instant replay, Tony.”

A tiny person – Clint’s guess was about five feet tall – perched on the chair next to Tony’s and said, “Ugh… mood. Ain’t had my coffee yet either.”

Tony grimaced, “Yeah… sorry about that Zain. I tried – I really did!” He shook his head apologetically.

“Wasn’ your fault, mah boi,” Zain replied sipping a frozen coffee drink known locally as a frozen teddybear, though Clint had no idea why.

Three others walked up carrying a variety of hot and cold beverages and the three sitting with Tony grabbed theirs. “You and FRIDAY going to help us draw straws this time Stark?” A tall woman with sandy brown hair narrowed her eyes at a shorter woman who appeared to be clinging to her butterbeer frappucino for dear life. “We want to make sure no one’s cheating this time.”

Clint watched as Ms. Butterbear blushed red, “I’m not cheating Cinna – I promise. Really! I wouldn’t!”

The taller woman, Cinna raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Three times in a row Meg. Three. Times. That’s all I’m saying,” and spun on her heel. “I’ll see you guys in Conference Room H-8.”

H-8? _H8? **Hate?**_ Clint mouthed the words to himself, when the barista snapped him out of his train of thought, saying, “Hey, buddy – you’re holding up the line! Gonna order or what?”

In stammering out his coffee order, he totally missed what the cutie with the vibrant red hair said to Meg, but Clint could tell that Tony had seen him and was trying to usher these folks away from him as rapidly as possible.

Well, he wasn’t Clint Barton, super-spy for nothing. He would follow Tony and this crew of six – no seven, because the salty one already left – and he’d find out what _exactly_ was going on. And how he could score himself one of those baskets.

Clint downed his small cold brew and headed for the vents. From one of the vent covers in the hall, he could see “H-8” spelled out in tiny hot pink post-it notes on the door. “Here goes nothing…,” Clint muttered to himself.

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

Tony sat at the conference table. He’d managed to herd the U.R.U. (Uniform Repair Unit) agents away before they’d noticed Clint at the coffee counter. He texted Natasha and Sam. “All right – I think we’re set. N-Ro and Chick Jagger should be here in a minute.”

Rhodey was already waiting for them when they got to the conference room in sub-basement 4, “Hey, how’re the most important members of the team doing this morning?”

From his position in the vents, Clint restrained the impulse to mutter, _Suck up…._ He turned up his hearing aids a bit to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“Better, now that I’ve had some coffee – flatterer,” Debbie said, her mood considerably improved by her quad shot americano.

“Aye!” said Zain and they clinked their to-go cups together.

A few moments later, Sam and Natasha arrived, with extra beverages for the URUs. Sam said, “Got a caramel macchiato?”

“Mine!” Jessie said, looking pleased.

“A mango iced tea – that’s for Phoenix,” said Natasha, handing the drink to the person with very red hair.

Phoenix breathed in the light mango aroma and exhaled happily, their green eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Natasha!”

 _Phoenix – that name suits them,_ Clint thought.

The espresso shots over ice found its home with Cinna and Jo cradled their caramel frappe, commenting, “Sam and Nat even remembered the extra whip!”

Tony smiled, “We want all of you as happy as possible – without _you_ there’s no _us,_ ” he said seriously and gestured to the other Avengers in the room before continuing. “All right, so we’re doing things a little differently in that you guys are gonna draw virtual straws while the four of us are here. Thor’s still out of town and last night was a school night, so no Spiderman.” Tony scanned the room counting heads. “I’m forgetting someone.”

“You forgot me, Stark,” Bucky said, glaring at the engineer as he shouldered the door open. “Brought some stuff. Enough for anybody who wants one,” he said, setting a tray on the conference table with fixings for breakfast sandwiches and napkins. He glanced up through his eyelashes, “Thanks for dinner the other night, Jo. Didn’t know I liked red peppers so much.” The corners of Bucky’s lips turned up slightly and he looked down, biting his lip.

Jo smiled back and winked, “Told you it was good.”

Clint watched the casual flirting from his vantage point in the vents, _Ugh… quit flirting Barnes – what the hell?_ His stomach growled at the smell of the breakfast spread below. _C’mon… hurry up._

“Right… okay…. Yes – thank you, Barnes. Oh! English muffin!” Tony helped himself to some breakfast. “All right – so did anyone here _not_ see the footage from our too-fucking-early in the morning mission?” Upon seeing no raised hands, Tony continued, “Great! So, as I said, we’re doing things differently today – FRIDAY’s overseeing the straw-drawing today and after that’s done, you all are gonna do your thing and vote for who gets the next basket of goodies.” Tony waggled his eyebrows.

The straws were drawn. Meg drew Steve and made a face. Cinna was jubilant, laughing, “Now you’ll know my pain, Meg!” 

Sighing, Meg said, “Yeah… well, maybe he started taking that chlorophyll supplement and the boots won’t smell so bad this time.”

“Keep dreamin’…” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Clint bit his lips together to keep from laughing. Yeah, even on the team, no one wanted to be around Steve when he took off his boots.

Cinna in turn, drew the silver and red straw for Sam Wilson. “Huh. Could be worse.”

Sam looked a little offended, “Look – it was _not_ my fault. If Barnes hadn’t shot that guy off that flying skateboard, I never would’ve – ” Cinna looked up at him, unimpressed, and the rest of the excuse died on his lips and instead changed tactics, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

She nodded, “Will do Wilson. Looks like the repairs won’t be too bad, but the cleaning’s gonna be a bitch.”

Jessie drew Natasha and they high-fived. “No rips or tears this time. The new slash-resistant fabric seems to work really well…. There may be a few blood stains, though,” Natasha admitted sheepishly.

Grinning, Jessie shrugged, “What’s a little blood between friends?” and they moved off to the side to gossip about stain removal and who was dating who in the pool of SHIELD agents.

“Well, that’s two of five out of the running for this mission’s prize package and one contestant in the running so far.” Tony said brightly. “Before we continue, shall we find out what’s on the table for the basket of goodies this time?”

Phoenix cleared their throat, “This time around, we’ve got a breakfast basket made by yours truly and Zain, along with a parmesan-crusted chicken dinner,” Meg waved her hands when her contribution was mentioned. “And an absolutely _gorgeous_ red velvet cake for dessert,” at which point Cinna smiled proudly (it really had turned out _exceptionally_ well this time).

Rhodey made a choked half-moan at the mention of red velvet cake, while Natasha looked like she was already counting Zain’s pancakes in her mind’s eye.

Next, Debbie chose and picked a gunmetal grey virtual straw. “Rhodes. Excellent!” Her brown eyes sparkled, “Damage report?”

“Um… you know… nothing too terrible…,” Rhodey hedged.

“Oh?” Clint couldn’t see Debbie’s face from this angle, but he could _hear_ an arched eyebrow from a mile away. You picked up a few things working with Tasha.

Rhodey shrugged, “Well… I… got a little carried away… and one of the pull cords came off. He pulled out a string with a plastic loop on one end.

Fascinated, Clint kept listening. He’d _never_ heard Rhodey use a tone that apologetic before.

Debbie sighed. “Yeah, it happens to the best of us, Rhodes. It’ll be a little like fixing the drawstring on a hoodie,” she said reassuringly.

Tony opened his mouth, “Hey, people – nanotech?! A little more complicated than a string on a hoodie!”

Debbie turned to speak to the billionaire, when Phoenix said, “But fixing the cord’s not. It’s just a pain in the ass.”

From the vent, Clint wheezed with silent laughter and Barnes looked up at the vent cover suspiciously. Clint swallowed the rest of his amusement and watched as they continued.

Still slightly offended, Tony said, “Okay… moving on.”

The next straw drawn was Bucky’s silver straw with dozens of little red stars all over it. Tony glanced up, “FRI – I see you’re taking some creative license with the straws. Very nice. Lay off the matchmaking, please?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” FRIDAY replied in her soft Irish lilt as Jo winked at Bucky who pretended not to notice, but the corners of his mouth tugged up and he looked very pleased behind that curtain of hair.

 _Oh man, that’s… really fucking adorable_ , Clint thought to himself and wondered what he could do to help the romance along there. _Preferably something free…._

“ _Dve pulevyye otverstiya,_ ” Barnes shook his head at the wrong language coming out. “Sorry,” he blushed slightly, cleared his throat and tried again. “There’s two bullet holes and an abrasion spot on the left thigh of the tach pants.”

“You’re okay, though, right?” Jo’s face had gone from flirty to fiercely protective faster than Clint could blink. After the super-soldier nodded, Jo shook their head, “Honestly, you people… talking about bullet holes like it’s no big deal. Bullets are a _big fuckin’ deal!_ Stop getting shot!” They paused, then added, “That goes for the rest of you too!”

Meg put an arm around Jo and rubbed their shoulder. “It’s all right, we get it,” she said soothingly.

Phoenix and Zain looked to be on the edge of their seats. Tony smiled, “All right, so just to recap – Rhodey and Natasha are still in the prize running and Barnes, Rogers, and Chick Jagger are out. Better luck next time, guys.”

“Hey, stop calling me that, Stark! It’s not funny anymore,” Sam complained.

Bucky snorted and mumbled, “Is so.”

“No one asked you – Winter Walker,” Wilson sniped back.

Tony cleared his throat, “White Walker, Wilson,” he said, looking smug about his alliterative skills. “Back to business. Should we do a drumroll? Who’s gonna draw?”

Phoenix and Zain looked at each other, then roshamboed for it. As the winner, Phoenix decided to bite the bullet and draw their straw next. A red straw with thin gold spirals appeared on the screen. “YES!” Phoenix yelled and pumped their fists in a happy dance, then realized that left Zain stuck with Barton.

Tony looked sympathetically at Zain, who stared bleakly at the conference room table. “I’m so sorry Zain…” Tony said as the purple straw flashed up on the screen. “Let’s see it,” he sounded like the thought of seeing Clint’s post-mission uniform hurt him physically.

The archer shifted uncomfortably in the vent. There’d been _circumstances_ that no one seemed to be accounting for here.

An intern brought in the tattered bundle of all that remained of Clint’s lightweight armored pants in the new, improved stain-resistant polymer. His tactical vest and breathable, sweat-wicking undershirt lay in a sad, ragged lump along with the pants on the conference table.

The now very silent group watched a video combined from news helicopter footage, the video feed from his own body cam, from a variety of bystander camera phones, and the body cams or digital feeds (Tony and Rhodey’s armors) of his other teammates. They weren’t really going to… Yes… the crew below and his fellow teammates were going to watch and analyze what specifically had happened to reduce his… brand new for this mission uniform to its present state. _Oh Christ, this was going to be painful to watch…._

Clint chewed his thumbnail as they started the video. They’d been fighting invading aliens again. That part went pretty well. _Right!_ There was where he jumped – _fucking gracefully, thank you very much_ – from building to building chasing down a group of them that had split from the core of the fighting. His arrows all found their targets – of course they did.

The last alien in the group Clint was following slid into the vent of an old apartment building… that was sort of where things may have started to go slightly… sideways.

To be fair, maybe it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t spilled salsa on his tach vest while trying to finish his breakfast burrito, get dressed, juggle his equipment, and enter the fray at the same time. He wiped his vest with one of those anti-bacterial wipes and the wipe kind of made a weird smell as he cleaned up, but the salsa came off, so Clint hadn’t worried about it. Of course, _that_ part wasn’t in the video.

So, Clint slid down the vent behind the alien. Tony was yelling that some of them had some kind of chemical weapon…. The pursuit continued down several floors and then out a sixth story window where he’d gotten a splinter under his fingernail and fallen into the dumpster below. Shaky camera phone footage showed Clint leaping out of the dumpster like a demented jack-in-the-box with an angry cat hooked onto his thigh, clawing its way up his back.

Tony snickered at this point, and Phoenix and Meg were trying to console Zain. To be honest, Clint thought it was a little harsh for Tony to laugh, but he hadn’t looked quite as cool jumping out of the dumpster as he’d hoped…. And then he tried to leap over the chain link fence, but slipped on something old noodles that had stuck to his boot from the dumpster and slid _under_ the fence instead, shredding both sides of his tach pants at once – one side tearing on the fence, and the other getting torn from broken glass and rough pavement. The cat had jumped free as he’d slipped, though, so there was that silver lining.

Even Bucky looked revolted when the alien sprayed Clint down with what looked like pink hair gel (it wasn’t hair gel). So then, _finally_ the rest of the team had provided back up. Tony blasted the alien weapon and that’d blown up and charred the pink gel stuff. Clint had no idea what it was. But then the scientists needed samples and he had to go through decontamination – at which point his vest caught fire where the antibacterial wipes had touched it. The footage from his body cam flickered out after that.

What had happened after that, was that he’d been sprayed with a fire extinguisher, which brought him to his argument with Coulson… which ultimately ended up with him hiding up here in the vents while watching the Avengers bloopers reel from this morning’s mission. Clint shrunk in on himself even though no one else could see him in the vent. The group below heaved a collective sigh of… frustration? Disbelief? Clint couldn’t quite tell.

“All right, so I think we can agree this wasn’t as bad as the racoon incident?” Tony looked around the room for nods of confirmation.

“Oh, yeah… that was savage,” Cinna confirmed with a shudder. “This was… messier, but not as bad as that was.”

Murmurs of agreement circled around the table and Debbie said, “Well, the important thing is that he survived, right? The flame retardant wasn’t perfect, but he’s not in the hospital with third degree burns either. So… we can tweak that.” She ran a hand through her puffy blonde curls. “Looks like that stain resistant polymer is working pretty well too. Just need to find a mix of odor-eliminating, rip and tear resistant fibers or coatings that will play nice together long enough for a field test.”

The other agents nodded bleakly, and Tony said, “Hey, don’t forget you’ve got FRIDAY at your disposal – and several of Stark Industries’ R&D department’s chemical engineers too.”

Debbie smiled, “Much appreciated Tony. I mean it. I’m grateful.”

Zain sighed and said, “Yeah, ’m glad th’ big dumpster baby’s okay.” They looked from the last still frame of the video to the heap of torn, scorched clothing on the table. “Jus’ wishin’ my hands didn’ hurt so much these days.”

Clint felt _terrible._ These people were all sitting in this room trying to keep him _alive_ and he constantly destroyed their work. _Every. Single. Time._ No wonder he never got invited to these meetings. He and Bruce basically destroyed their clothes every time they went out on a call. Steve… well… he was gorgeous, but those boots, ugh…. Clint wrinkled his nose thinking about them.

He’d _never_ win the prize – all those tasty treats, the homemade jam. That’s why he’d never been invited, why those people disliked him so much. Clint chewed his lip and felt his eyes prickle, though that was probably just dust. Vents totally have tons dust. It’s a fact.

Clint watched the group in the H-8 conference room start to break up. Rhodey won the prize this time in the drawing between him, Natasha, and Tony. Barnes left speaking in low tones to Jo. Cinna and Meg looked like they’d made up from their bickering earlier and were planning new ways to try to combat odors in clothing (most specifically, shoes). Jessie, Natasha, and Phoenix walked out with Sam and Rhodey on their way to get more coffee before the URU team got to work in earnest.

Debbie, Zain, and Tony lingered behind the rest.

“I’ll switch with you, Zain. I know the weather messes up your hands,” Debbie said.

The expressions that flitted over Zain’s face included joy, hope, a stab of regret, and then a tired, slow refusal. “That ain’t fair Deb. You’re always stuck fixin’ Barton’s gear.”

Debbie shrugged, “It’s fine. It’s like a puzzle right? Someday we’ll put together something he can’t destroy.”

“If you’re sure…” the light was starting to come back to Zain’s eyes.

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Debbie responded, almost cheerfully.

“Thanks fam,” they said and beat a hasty retreat for the door.

Tony looked at Debbie after Zain left. “They don’t know?”

“No,” she shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter much if they did. They’d just give me a hard time about it,” Debbie replied.

Tony shook his head, “I just can’t believe none of them put it together… _D.B._? Once you make that connection, the rest kind of comes together – the hair, the love-life disaster…?”

In the vents above, Clint had to admit to himself that he didn’t get it either, but Debbie didn’t seem angry anymore about the tragedy in fabric disintegrating on the conference table as she and Tony spoke.

Debbie shrugged and helped herself to one of the breakfast sandwiches that’d been left behind. “It’s not fair. He worked his ass off to become who he is. He doesn’t deserve to get saddled with some fat chick from the Midwest. Bet the tabloids would love that,” Debbie added bitterly.

Tony put his hands on her shoulders and for a second, Clint wondered if Stark was going to kiss her, the red lipstick really worked for her, after all. But Tony’s expression stayed serious as he said, “Hey, raising two kids with your ex and his on-again-off-again whatever-she-is? Coming here and busting ass to keep us alive? And keeping everybody else on your team together, focused, and positive? That’s fucking _amazing._ Don’t you dare sell yourself short based on somebody else’s beauty standards.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Debbie replied with a small smile.

Clint got the feeling she and Tony had had similar conversations before.

“All I’m saying is that… maybe let him decide what he wants. Let him make the call? He’s a good guy, Delilah,” Tony said and gave her a hug.

Wait… _Delilah?_ Clint thought through the last several minutes of conversation he’d eavesdropped on. _‘I just can’t believe none of them put it together… D. B.?’_ Delilah **B.** …from the Midwest? Nah… that was stupid – too many coincidences.

Debbie… no, Delilah thought for a moment, “The kids _have_ been bugging me about getting a dog. An uncle with a dog that they could visit would be a lot better than having my own dog…” her voice trailed off thoughtfully.

Clint scowled. _**I** have a dog…._ If he weren’t wedged into the vent eavesdropping, he’d fold his arms to sulk. But… what was there to sulk about really? That his only living family was his jackass brother Barney? Natasha, Coulson, even Stark, Rogers and the rest… _they_ were his family now.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, just think about it. Gets lonely sometimes not having someone to come back to. Family’s grounding.”

She made a face, “What, droppin’ wisdom like a prophet and then you’re gonna vanish?”

“You got me,” Tony pointed finger guns and winked at Deb- … Delilah and said, “Good luck with the next prototype.”

They both left Clint’s visual range and he heard the door close. A few minutes passed quietly, so he decided the coast was clear and carefully slid the vent cover out of the way and dropped into the room… that was still occupied by Debbie. Delilah. D.B. DB was the name strip sewn onto her SHIELD jacket, Clint noticed now.

They stared at each other in silence for an awkwardly long moment. Then both started talking at once, “I didn’t know you were still here and I’m really sorry about giving you guys so much grief… it’s not like I’m trying – you know that right?” “Jesus Christ! You scared me! What the hell Barton?!” “I said I was sorry!” 

“Maybe if you weren’t sneaking up on people, you wouldn’t freak them the fuck out, bruh.”

It took Clint a second to realize that she was signing along with cursing him out verbally. “You know sign?” he signed back, with an expression of confused surprise plastered to his face.

Still angry, she signed, “Duh…” but then her expression softened. “I have a brother who’s deaf, so I wanted to learn.”

“I’ve got a dog… if your kids want to be able to visit one. Lucky likes kids.” Clint said aloud and shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders shrugged up near his ears.

“Bet they’d like that. Thanks,” Delilah said, biting her lip and scraping off some of the red lipstick at that corner.

They stood there uncomfortably for another long moment before Clint burst out, “What kinda name is Delilah? Who names their kid that?”

She snorted, “Same guy who names his other three kids Abilene, Barney, and Clint.”

“That’s so weird… Wait? Seriously?” Clint stammered. “Really?” _Handpicked by Coulson and Fury._ “Coulson and Fury?”

“Chose us for our capacity to put up with a lot of nonsense, mostly… but probably to protect us too. In case anyone ever found out,” she replied.

“‘Us?’ I mean there’s a whole team of you, but… are you _> b>all _related to us? My us and your us are related?” Clint blinked and hoped that made sense. “Um… do you like Debbie or Delilah better?”__

____

____

“Debbie’s easier... I always feel like I’m in trouble or should be talking in a dramatic Southern drawl when people call me Delilah,” Debbie smiled. “But in one way or another, yeah, my us and your us are related. We’re really invested in keeping y’all safe.”

Clint shuffled his feet for a moment and kicked at the leg of the conference table. “So.”

“Sooooo? What?” she replied.

“Who’s related to who?” That wasn’t _really_ what Clint wanted to know, but it’s what came out first while avoiding his real question.

Debbie thought for a moment, “I don’t know everybody’s connections, but I know Bucky is Zain’s great-great uncle, Phoenix is related to Tony – a cousin, I think, but I don’t know which side. Cinna is Bruce Banner’s goddaughter and Meg is best friends with Natasha’s sister who works in Legal.”

“Wow… that’s really cool.” That the Avengers had connections – _family_ – and might not be just a found family of orphans who stuck together was a thought that had never occurred to Clint before. He decided to ask his real question, “Any chance I can get some of that jam if I bring Lucky by for your kids to play with?” Clint asked, hoping to work out some kind of deal.

“Huh? Oh, sure – hey, you mind taking the rest of the breakfast stuff? Barnes went overboard again.”

Outside the conference room, Tony waited, watching the video feed on his phone until FRIDAY caught Clint and his younger sister hugging. Smiling to himself, he decided that his work here was done. The news would come out to the rest of the team sooner or later – whenever the Barton siblings decided to share.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a cameo fic for some of the people on the WinterIron Discord server, but I hope it's enjoyable for everyone. :) Love to all my WI server peeps! (and realistically to everyone else too! xD )


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